Prescription for Life
by MissDomaYuset
Summary: All Conrad Achenleck wanted was a normal school year. What he got was an asshole of an Aussie that wouldn't let him alone, and a massive amount of pills. Young!Conrad Young!Worth AU
1. The Notebook

**ITS TIME FOR SUPER SPECIAL RP TIME!**

_**Unceunceunce…**_

**Okay enough of that. This entire story was actually a RP between myself and a very talented person that goes by the name May Sparrow. It was an interesting experience for the both of us as I never RP'ed as Conrad before and she as Worth.**

**I think we did pretty awesome. So awesome in fact we wanted to share the epicenes with the rest of the HiNaBN fan community. This story takes place in a AU, where Connie and Worthy are going to the same high school. I hope you all will enjoy reading this story as much as we did writing it.**

**DISCLAIMER: All original characters belong to Tessa Stone. Who I assume was turned into a bat, which explains the immense lack of updates.**

It was late in the afternoon, and school had just let out. Conrad, a young freshman in high school, had the misfortune of missing his bus home. Now this wasn't entirely horrible, he knew the way home, he did. But it was the matter of not being able to go home at the specific time he was _supposed_ to go home. He was going to be late, and being late with anything never sat well with his mother.

He knew it'd just make the situation worse, but he slowed his pace a bit. Another ten minutes walking means ten less minutes he'll have to face _her. _Ten less minutes of having to listen to how if keeps up his _irresponsible_ behavior, he'll end up like his father… He never even met the man for himself, but apparently he was horrible. Swallowing, Conrad slowed his pace even more.

He wished this walk could last forever.

The boy paused for a moment, adjusting his glasses. This was no good, he needed to stop stressing. He needed a distraction. He took the sketch book out from under his arm and opened up to a half drawn picture of a horse. Maybe if he drew while he walked, he'd relax and forget about his destination. Maybe it'd make the trip home seem longer. "I-I'll do the mane… Can't mess up on manes while walking…" He muttered to himself while he made wispy lines.

Conrad was distracted, so distracted to the point he didn't notice another boy who was standing on the other side of the street. Luce Worth, a senior, had left school _ages_ ago. And honestly, the teachers were secretly happy he left too. He leaned up against a stop sign, chewing on the end of a cigarette. He spotted Conrad and took note of his round glasses and his nose buried in a notepad. A screaming target for Luce, who hadn't tormented a child since… a few hours ago.

Luce recognized the kid too, had seen him around campus… for a moment, he wondered what his name was. Colby? Corbin?

He lit up another smoke and J-walked across the street. He approached Conrad nonchalantly, not trying to attract attention at first, but ran the last few feet and snatched the sketch book from the boy's hands. Conrad jumped in surprise, and stared wildly at the boy who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Wha's dis? C'n I see?" Worth asked, but obviously didn't need Conrad's _permission_ as he'd already begun to flip through the pages. He expected there to be a hate list or pictures of naked girls, but all he got was a book full of pansy drawings. "…Das so gay." He snorted at the horse, poking Conrad in the forehead. "What are ya, a girl?"

"I-I-I…!" Conrad stuttered for a moment, still trying to process what the _hell_ was happening now. He managed to find his voice. "Give it back! And it's…_it's n-not…_" trailing off, Conrad shrank back slightly. This boy was bigger than he was. He was _scary_ looking.

"Nah, I wanna see~" Luce held up the book so Conrad couldn't snatch it back, still looking through the pages with an interested expression.

Conrad was tempted to just turn on his heel and make a run for it, and just let him have the damned book. What if this kid was a dangerous as he looked?

But…

He worked hard on those drawings. He didn't want to lose his sketch book to some… some _creep!_ And besides, his mother would never buy him _another_ sketch book. "Please?" He asked with a pleading expression. "J-Just give it back…?"

Luce didn't seem to listen, holding up his cigarette with his free hand. He was seemed tempted to dab it onto one of the drawings. Conrad spotted this and froze up in terror- letting out a _huge_ sigh of relief as the older teen seemed to have changed his mind. Luce would never admit it, but… the drawings as pansy as they were, were actually _not bad_. He looked down at Conrad though and gave him an irritated stare- annoyed at boys' lack of back bone. He wanted to punch that pleading expression and tell him to quit acting like such a _girl._

"Da hell is this shit? Di'n't mum eva tell ya drawing's fer girs?" He rolled his eyes. "An' '_orses!_ Least draw w'men or s'meth'ng." And much to Conrad's displeasure, he turned to a blank page and snatched the pencil that had still remained in the boy's hand.

"N-No! But boys draw too…" he choked out. When the pencil was snatched, he felt anger bubbling up and suddenly snapped. "Don't draw in there! It's _mines!_"

But as quickly as the anger came, it was pulled back. No, no, no, he couldn't yell at this boy! He could hit him, he could _kill_ him! Paranoia set in as he became convinced that if he made the wrong move, that lit cigarette would be put out into his _eyeball._ He reached weakly for the book and added pitifully, "_…Please?"_

Worth snorted at the boy's getting defensive, "Breath ya pussy," he muttered- then took note of his sudden backing down. "F'ck, kid. Ya angry, ya let it out." He chewed on his cigarette thoughtfully as he scribbled naked women onto the lose paper- rather forcefully so there would be deep indentions of the perverted lines. He didn't seem to hear Conrad whining painfully in the back ground as he finished up. "…T'ere. A pr'per boy's art book."

The cigarette by now had gone out. He rifled though his pocket for another, but he was all out. "Dammit." He'd have to buy more. He shoved the book and pen back into the boy's arms and ruffled his hair roughly with his grimy and dirty hands. "I gotta git kid. Cigs ain't gonna buy 'emselves." He began walking away, then paused. He turned his head back and added before disappearing around the corner, "And don't be such a fag nex't time. I see ya."

Because there _would_ be a next time.

Conrad didn't seem to hear him, eyes were transfixed onto the vulgar drawings. The proportions were a bit off, but all the right details were there. Conrad seemed horrified, but he didn't know how to look away.

'_So that's what a naked girl looks like…'_

He shook his head and threw the book to the ground, hyperventilating. "M-Mom!" What if she saw this in his book? She'd think he was a disgusting pervert, a deviant! That would mean something _else_ that was wrong with him. That would mean _more_ doctors, _more_ pills. "Oh god! Oh god!" He fell to his knees and ripped the page out, throwing it into a random direction. He looked back to the book- it was now on the page with the horse he was just drawing on minutes ago.

The indentions of the naked women were on that, plain as day. "H-He pressed so hard!" Conrad ripped that paper out, only to see the indentations on the next page. And the next. And the _next._ He was forced to rip out each one, because _she_ would see. She always checked, _always_ and he couldn't, _wouldn't_ take the risk.

Eventually, he became so frustrated that he threw the book into a muddy puddle in the middle of the street and ran home crying.


	2. Bus Ride

**Hurray! Second Chapter!**

**Enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment.**

**I own none of the original! **

Conrad made it a point to not to miss the bus anymore. Not just because of his mother panicking at his lateness the other day but because of _him. _He curls up against the vibrating glass and tin wall of the bus, feeling somewhat fortunate that he had a window seat all to himself. He still moped about the loss of his sketch book, but he told himself a folder filled with clean computer paper worked just as well. That and he wouldn't be able to draw on the bus. The bus constantly shook and stopped, and made it impossible to draw anything well.

He sighed slightly as predictably, the bus jolted harshly for another stop. He stared out the window, letting his mind wander, not even noticing a certain teenager being let on. Said teen dropped the coins in the payment slot and walked down the aisle and spotted Conrad.

And just like that, Conrad's day was ruined again, because this teenager was the same as a few days before. The same teen that violated his privacy, insulted his work and ruined his sketch book. Luce recognized Conrad and smirked widely. The only difference in his appearance from last time was the dingy fur lined jacket he found in the charity bin. He saunters down the aisle, sprawling into the open seat, legs spread madly, taking up much of the space.

Conrad felt himself being pushed up even more up against the wall and for a split second assumed it was just a very _fat_ man sitting next to him. Until he turned his head and saw the teens face.

He squeaked.

"Ey Connie~" Luce grinned darkly. He was able to find- and _remember_ the kids real name. Isn't that sweet? "'Member me?"

"Oh _GOD!_" Horrified, he slammed himself up against the wall of the bus, trying to get as far as away as he could from Worth. Away from him and what looked like a flea infested coat with road kill stitched on it. "W-Why are you sitting next to me? Leave me alone!" His tone was desperate and had a embarrassingly whinny ring to it.

Worths' smirk widened. "Ah, so ya DO rem'ber me. 'M touched." He notes the boys retreating. "Ey, ey, s'public property. I kin sit wher'ver I wants." Rolling his eyes, he sat up correctly, giving Conrad a bit of breathing room as he stretched. "Di'nt mummy ever teach ya s'not attractive ta whine?" he askes as he runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair. (Literally _dirty_ blonde hair mind you)

Biting the insides of his cheek, Conrad stops his squirming when he finally got a bit of his personal space back. "I k-know but... " This wasn't right. He shouldn't be talking to this guy. He found himself shaking alightly. "M-My mom told me not to talk to people…ah- I mean, people _like you_, people like you."

Worth was a bit surprised the kid took the rhetorical question seriously. He frowns at the shaking. "Like me eh? Lemmie tell ya kid, ya ain't gonna meet an'one _like me._" He has a gut feeling that the kid was avoiding something, but shrugs it off. He leans back and stretches an arm around the kid. "Eesh, quit yer blubbering. S'mbaressing fer a kid like you."

The boy protested weakly at first, defensively stating that he was _not_ in fact blubbering. But when he felt that arm stretch around his shoulder, he started to have a panic attack, franticly slapping the arm away like it was a snake. "Don't touch me! _Don't touch me!_"

Blinking, Worth took back his arm, surprised at the hysterical reaction. "Aw'ight, aw'ight, jeezus… Essh, ya sound like my mum, go up a coule octaves why don'cha?" He quirks an eyebrow at the kid. "Where's the notepad kiddie?"

"I-I left it at home…" He opted for a lie, wanting this conversation to end as quickly as possible. But that was impossible because this bus seemed to refuse to get to his destination as quickly as he would of liked. Worth could tell the kid was lying however but even if he wanted to call him out on it, the boy changed the subject. "What is your name anyways?"

It'd be nice to know the name of his _stalker_.

Luce wondered about just giving Lamont's name, but then decided against it. It was just a kid- what would he do with it anyways? "S'Worth. Luce Worth." He smirked. "And don'cha ferget it!"

"I don't think I'd be _able_ to…" Calmed down, Conrad seemed to be somewhat pouting about his unfortunate situation. "Why are you even bothering me?" He tried so hard being invisible, but he attracted the attention of one of the most violent boys on campus. How does that add up?

Luce stares at the boy like he was an idiot. "M'not. . Yer jest in the wrong place 't the wrong time." He rolls his eyes. "Grow a backbone, th'n t'won't bother ya 's much." He pokes the boy in the chest. "Ya make it too easy, kid."

Conrad flinches at the poke. "I-I have a backbone!" he protests weakly. "It's not my fault y-you're doing this!" He's the victim here- you can't just go and blame the victim!

Luce continues poking. "Prove it." He flicks glasses. "'S in mah nature. T'e more ya complain, t'e more I enjoy it. Got it?" Smirking, he ruffles the kids hair. "Yer such a spazz."

The boy fliches with each touch, and it was starting to look quite pathetic. "I-I-stopitjeasus! Am I supposed to just take it?" he whined.

Why can this bus go faster?

Luce snickers. "Little dumbass." He releases with a smirk; hand falls to his lap. "Ya can fight back, but I t'ink yer too muchuva pansy ts try." He was enjoying himself. "Quit yer whining. S'not flattering."

This confused Conrad. "Y-You want me to fight back?" he asked baffled. "...why?"

Luce shrugs. " S' funny. " He's distracted for a moment by something out the window. "I'v been called a mas'chist bafore. M'ght've s'mth'ng ta do w'th it."Pauses. "I unno. Ya also stop actin like a baby at one po'nt. S' an option. T'ink 's called fight er flight"

"You're insane! [I'm not a baby, I just want to be left alone. I shouldn't have to even make that choice." He hugs his bag in front of him as he see's the bus was about to _finally_ pull into his stop. "T-That's my stop! _Please_ just leave me alone!"He squeezes past Luce, and finally manages to escape off the bus, leaving behind Luce and his twisted little smirk.


	3. Blood

**Here we go guys.**

**PLOT TIME. Now things get kinda serious, so put on your seatbelts.**

**Again this is an RP between myself and May Sparrow.**

**This time, the posts were translated into a proper chapter by her as were several other chapters. Which is kinda incredible. Please do check out her work.**

**None of the original belongs to us!**

Tuesday lunch bell found Conrad on his way to the office. Whereas other teens his age were enjoying their lunches or chatting with their dear friends, Conrad would usually head to the library and bury himself into a quiet corner to read, but today he had to do a couple things before he could be free to dive into his current novel.

Slipping into the office, Conrad greeted the nurse with a polite (if not dull and robotic) nod to her warm "oh hello you again".

"It's Tuesday," he began. "I just get the blue and round ones today, right?" She nodded at him, then turned back to shuffle through the cupboard to find his medication. Meanwhile, Conrad seated himself in one of the two seats beside the door, dangling his feet lightly, knocking them back and forth in the slightest bored fashion.

…

The kid had been asking for it, really he had. All Luce had done was given him a quick punch to the jaw for calling his sister a whore. After all, Luce took a lot of shit from kids, but no one was allowed to mutter a word about his flesh and blood. If there was a code Luce stuck by, it was this:

1. Never kick a man when he's down. Kicking, punching, biting, any of that shit was messed up and indecent, and Luce did have at least one moral bone in his body.

2. Never hurt a person that's clearly incapable of fighting back. This went for druggies and little kids, and sometimes girls, even though a few had proved quite capable of taking care of themselves.

3. Never, _ever_ insult a person's family member when you know the person could beat the living shit out of you.

That last rule had been broken today, and a fight had broken out quite too easily. It had ended just as quickly, and as it figured, Luce was sent to the office all by himself. It wasn't that he minded, really, because he was there all the time; he just would have preferred that asshole to have joined him so he could hit him a couple more times before they arrived.

At this point, Luce's nose was bleeding something awful, and he was covered with bruises and scratches from his opponent (a little dickhead that went by the name Lamont Touchey). In a sort of fashion much like that of a jailer getting a final meal before the death sentence, Luce was allowed to the nurse's office to clean up before being sent into the principal's office. He mumbled something incoherent to the secretary before walking into the nurse's room rudely, not bothering to knock. He plopped into the seat closest to the door, which was vacant, before realizing that there was someone else beside him. A _certain_ someone, actually.

Luce couldn't help a smirk from breaking across his face, partially hidden behind the hand that was plugging his bloody nose. "Allo, kiddie," he muttered cheerfully, his voice nasally. "Long time no see. Ya 'ere fer a tampon er s'meth'ng?"

Conrad jumped a little from the older boy's presence, almost immediately muttering, "Oh _god _not you!" before looking up to the nurse in a pleading expression that screamed for her to give him the pills so he could go, yet unfortunately for him, she had noted the senior as the higher priority, and she, of _course_, was the only one on staff.

"Oh you little rascal- _another fight?_ Hang on Conrad, I need to stop this bleeding!"

"No, wai-!" Too late. She had already left the tray of prescription bottles on the counter to find the first aid kit. Conrad took a deep breath, praying for nothing bad to happen. Nothing _could_ happen, right? They were in the office; the older kid couldn't do anything here! ...Right?

He felt himself coil up in retaliation to the rude comment. "I'm just here for my medication... You-" he paused. It was pretty obvious why he was here, he nose was bleeding. Why was he going to ask? "I mean... _ho-"_ also pretty obvious. It was Luce, it was pretty clear he was the sort of boy to get into fights on a daily basis. In that moment, Conrad felt like an utter idiot. He stopped talking.

Luce snorted, accidentally swallowing some blood in the process, eliciting a grimace. "Meds, 'uh?" His smirk never faded. "Now, what wouldja need meds fer?" Quickly noting the pill box so carelessly left behind, he studied its contents, nitpick eyes easily recognizing the tablets from his mother's pill bottles. "The Lexies and Paxy?" He rolled his eyes; these were antidepressants, for a person with serious metal instability.

But hang on. These had some poor side effects: lack of sleep, withdrawal, lots of bad shit. Why the hell would an underage kid be taking these pills?

Worth grimaced again, leaning forward to keep the blood from trailing down his trachea. "You- Yer one'a those damn cutters, ain'cha? Fuck, das so stupid." His grimace didn't fade; as far as he was concerned, cutters were usually just asking for attention. Luce cut, on occasion, but it was only for the feel (and he _liked_ it). "Sum depressed little shit t'at can't take care o' 'is own 'ide? Shit." His grimace deepened; the damned depressed kids were so caught up with their own problems, they could never see the world around them. It was irritating as hell.

At the accusation, Conrad's head snapped up, almost immediately shaking. "W-What? No! I don't cut- Jesus, why would you _think_ that?" To say he was caught off guard was a slight understatement, but he didn't realize what Worth had seen; hell, he didn't even remember what each pill was even for!

At that moment the nurse returned, and he looked up hopefully, in vain.

"Luce, settle down and use this," she said sternly, handing the senior some medical tissue. "I'll be back with some water- Behave! The both of you!" With that, she left the room once more, and Conrad's face fell.

The elder boy just rolled his eyes, tissue dangling in one hand. "Da fuck am I s'posed ta do with dis thing, damn lady don't know how ta do her job," he muttered dully- nevertheless, he brought the tissue to his nose and blew loudly, squeezing the excess away. He blinked down at the bloody mess, making a face. "Errg."

Said boy returned his attention to his companion, expression deepening. "Why? Cuz dat shit's fer kids dat're messed up in da 'ead." To emphasize his point, he poked himself lightly in the temple. "What da damn docters don't tell ya is dat shit could act'lly mek it worse."

He blew again, snorting and wiping his nose. "Specially fer kid's yer age. Wut're ya, ten er s'meth'ng?" Luce poked the smaller teen in the chest, lightly but invasively. "S'Just gunna make shit worse fer ya."

Conrad scooted away slightly from the finger. "_Don't_ touch me!" He was becoming angry now, from all the insults and invasiveness. "And I'm not messed up! My mom just makes me take these pills- not that this is any of your business!" His hackles lowered for a moment, and he directed the rest of his reply to what he thought he knew: "'Sides, you're lying. Doctors don't give you stuff to hurt you- you're _supposed_ to trust them. Y-You're just trying to scare me. _Again._" To prove his disbelief, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest- but it came off as hugging himself instead. "So… shut up."

His last rebuttal didn't come off as very strong to the other teen, however, and Luce groaned. Why did it figure that the one time he was actually being brutally honest, no one would listen to him? "Yer mum, eh?" The senior rolled his eyes. "Parents dunno shit."

His expression turned to a glare at the kid. "I ain't _gonna_ shuddup. I know my shit, and probly know more'en yer mum, too. Wouldn't be stupid enough ta' let mah kid tek all three damn antiwhatsits." He held up three fingers, then let his hand fall again to his lap. "Wouldn't be stupid enough ta 'ave a kid in da first place. Specially one with genes like yers." The hand rose again, to poke Conrad in the arms, despite the boy's defensive expression.

"I betcha she got fucked and didn even wantcha. Whetever problem's she got, she thinks you 'ave em. S'called..." Luce put his finger to his chin in an expression of thought. "… 'ctually, can't m'mber wet it's called." He removed his finger from his chin to wave it in the air, like some sort of wiseass proving a point. "Is real though." Later, Luce would recall the word he was searching for as projecting, but for now he didn't bother trying.

So far, Conrad had been able to withstand the rude comments; but those, those last ones, those were on a totally different level. It was clear that at this point, he really was hugging himself. "I-It's not my fault..." his voice shook, "Why are you..."

His expression was that of devastation, like a person that's been in denial and refuses to come out. "Why are you _doing_ _this!_" His voice spiked dangerously high. "My mom- you can't say things like that! She's a good person!" He swallowed.

Luce pulled the tissue away from his nose to check the bleeding; to his chagrin, it had definitely improved. His annoyance only increased furthermore as the younger boy continued to deny his comments. "Lookit ya. You'da been better off if she hadn' kept ya. Lotta less moping an' crying an pills. I know what'm talkin' 'bout, Connie."

"She wanted me. She did! She kept me didn't she? That proves it doesn't? You wouldn't know!" Conrad's voice was definitely rising in fury. "I **hate** you! I bet everyone does! So you wouldn't know!" His eyes watered furiously, but his expression had twisted into anger and distress.

At the raised voice, he looked up, catching sight of the unshed tears, and frowned.

"_Hate me?"_ He snorted. "Course they hate me, 'm the only one th'can see how stupid all this shit is." The scraggly teen's eyes suddenly became dangerously narrow. "I know 'zactly what I'm talkin' about. And you know it too."

At this point, it was obviously clear he was glaring at the boy, more than angered by his denial, by his childish fury. "There ain't a damn thing you kin do ta stop me. 'M the only one being fuckin' honest in this damn world. 'N you can tell. Why else wouldja be flippin' out so much?"

He reached out then, grabbed Conrad by his shoulders, trying to tell him to _let go_, to stop being a kid and to listen to him. "Ain't nobody in this world you kin trust, understand? _Nobody._" He shook him lightly, as though trying to shake him from his mindset. "Grow up an' get it through yer head."

Conrad's stamina and emotions were spiraling madly at the older boy's words. "Shut up shut up _shu-_" his shaking was broken off as physical contact was reestablished, and he stared blankly at Worth, insides churning and snapping.

Something, some final boundary, that had been thin and worn already, snapped and broke inside Conrad's mind.

"I said, _**DON'T TOUCH ME!**_" Head reared back, slammed forward into Worth's face, forehead against the boy's already fragile nose. Luce cursed loudly as his nose was crushed further, brain nearly screaming from the contact. He released Conrad and fell back into his seat, gripping his nose, and Conrad took the opportunity to pull farther away and scramble to his feet, hyperventilating.

Luce's mind was in shambles. His mind was screaming _holy fuck holy shit that hurts_. His nose felt utterly crushed at this point, and Luce resisted a yelp of pain as he tried to hold it in its proper place. He blinked at Conrad somewhat blurry-eyed, as the boy began to scream at him:

"I _SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!_ I don't trust you, _I'll __**never**_ trust you! Leave me alone! **LEAVE ME ALONE!**" At this point, it was clear that Conrad had crossed a certain boundary, and was officially having what some may call an episode.

"…Well, fuck." The senior said nothing more until the kid had calmed some, meanwhile blinking and staring cross-eyed at the broken thing his fingers. "Did… Did ya just hit me?"

To say he was surprised was a bit of an understatement; he had never expected this kid, this _pansy_ to really fight him, to fight back and defend himself. At this point in time the tissue had returned to his nose, and was soaked quite thoroughly to the point of dripping.

"You just hit me… Damn."

Conrad's hand were curled into small fists as his psyche tried to reign itself in; his emotions were having none of it. "Yes I hit you! I'd hi-"

Realization hit him like an iron fist, and the frightened expression returned to his face as quickly as it had fled. "Oh god _-_ _I hit yo-_"

To his utter misfortune, the nurse finally reentered the room, hand wrapped around a cup of water he could only assume was meant for his pills.

"Sorry, dear, they were out of paper cups so I ha- oh dear." She took in the scene awfully slowly, piecing together what had happened.

"Conrad, _go_ to the Principals office_ NOW._ Wait there until I can get a hold of him _and_ your mother."

"W-Wait! You ca- you don't under-"

"Now!" That set aside hastily, she returned her focus to Worth, forcing him to lean back. "...Yup, broken," she muttered to herself, eliciting a grimace from Luce (_gee, ya think?_) "You'll need to go to the hospital." That said, she tried to carefully stop the bleeding as a secretary escorted a clearly broken Conrad out of the room.

Luce waved her away in a dismissive manner, a grin breaking open on his bloody face. "Old up, lady. Bigger things a' work 'ere." He was actually beginning to enjoy the pain, being the masochist that he was, and he limped out of the room quickly, trying to catch the other teen.

"Old up, 'old up." He finally managed to get the secretary to stop, only a few feet away from the principal's room.

Conrad was not happy; he felt as though he was walking to his doom, and in one way, he kid of was. But they were suddenly stopped, and he turned; to his surprise, Worth had been the distraction. He was covered in blood, and the freshman resisted a grimace.

As he leaned down to look Conrad in the eye, an almost manic grin spread across his face.

"Goo' job, kid."

"Good job?" He… he just broke his nose- how could Luce be _happy_ about that? "I do-"

A fist connected with his stomach, and Worth was rewarded with a nice squelching sound.

"_Unnngh!_" The underclassman fell to his knees, wheezing.

"Don' do it again," he heard faintly. The words were followed by laughter as Luce waved off the angry secretary, who furiously redirected her attention to the small pained boy, leading him into the principal's room and onto a couch to recover.

Luce Worth laughed once more and returned cheerfully to the frowning nurse. "Where were we?"


	4. Proud

**HAHA THIS IS THE REAL CHAPTER THREE.**

**SOME OF YOU ACIDENTALLY READ THE FUUUUUTURE.**

**And I took some of this drug-Hazy-ness from my own past when I used to take ADHD medication. Total zombifacation. Only I dramatized it a bit more here.**

Conrad had been a model student that was aggravated for the first time, and reacted violently for the _first time._Because of this, he only got a two day suspension as a warning- rather gracious of the principal, who was known to be quick with punishing students with hard labor or volunteer work. Mother, however, wasn't pleased. Conrad got to enjoy a full 48 hours of her expressing that disappointment.

During that time, she did his laundry, and found some of the clothes smelling like _smoke._ This caused her to yell at the boy some more, refusing to listen to his excuses that would contain a certain blonde Aussie who didn't seem to know the meaning of _personal space._She even smacked him across the face for becoming a 'liar', a liar just like _him._

On the second day of hell, he was dragged to the doctor and was immediately prescribed some anger medication. He didn't think much of it as he took the first pill in the morning, or the next few mornings. But eventually as he returned to school he noticed for himself, noticed the sudden _slowness_ and the change of usual quirks. His eyes gained a hazed look.

It was lunch again, and after taking his pills of the day, the teen wandered into library and pulled out his folder of paper and drawings.

"..."

Conrad stared blankly at the sheet- hand hovering over the paper.

"..."

Nothing. _Nothing._ Numbly, the freshman pushed the paper aside and took out a book, trying to read it.

"..."

He found himself re-reading the same page over and over again because it just _wasn't sinking in._ He kept trying -but didn't seem to care either way.

He was too tired to care.

~x~

After Luce's return from the hospital, he was finally punished for injuring several kids. His punishment? Library assistant. ("Do'I get a fuckin' nametag ta go wit' it?") Every day at lunch and after school he'd have to help put books away and catalog shit, but they were pretty far in the year with cataloging and no one came to the library anyway, so he basically did nothing the whole time. Still, it was an improvement to the students, as he was confined there and therefore not really capable of injuring anybody. With nothing to do, Luce had been studying the biology books; other than all the nude pics he would get to look at (little pervert that he was) they were actually pretty neat. He started thinking about medical careers a bit more, but today, as he read, he noted someone a couple tables away.

It's _Connie._

He looked exhausted, sick even. Luce closed his book, making sure to mark the page, and rose from his table. Taking a spot next to Conrad, he reopened the book to his page, continuing to read. "Not lookin' too good, kiddie." He raised an eyebrow, still reading. "New meds er someth'ng?"

Conrad blinked a bit slowly and looked up at the elder teen. "..." He nodded slightly. Who was he again?... Ah! Luce Worth. He knew him. He _knew_him. He wasn't supposed to _like_ him. But he couldn't find the hatred. Couldn't summon up any real emotion really.

"I can't pronounce the name... but yes." He didn't remember why he didn't like talking about his medications, and found himself just babbling slightly "I can't pronounce most of the names though." That said, he turned back to the book and re-read the page for the third time.

"...Eighteen..." the younger student muttered to himself mostly. He remembered how many different bottles there were currently that he had to take from. Some were daily, others bi-weekly, weekly, and one was even monthly. "This makes eighteen..."

Luce was a bit surprised he actually responded, that he didn't jump away or anything. The kid was babbling, and he allowed him to; _Jesus, he looks ill._ To his discomfort, Luce was actually a little freaked about this, and the slightest twisting in his gut that was always there tightened a little more at the mention _'eighteen'._

"Holy fuck kid." The senior looked up from his book to study Conrad. His reactions were slow at best; his eyes, normally rather bright and panicked, were glazed; fuck, he looks majorly drugged. He straightened from his slouched position and narrowed his eyes at Conrad. "'Ey, wake up."

He closed his book and gently but firmly wrapped his fingers around the kid's wrist. "Ya got any sense, ya'll stop takkin' the meds. Yer liver should be failin' at this point if'ya don't stop!" His voice was lowered, but sharp, hopefully sharp enough to cut through the haze in his companion's mind. "Yer makin' yerself sick. Get it?"

Conrad didn't make eye contact, but his eyes were drawn to his wrist, currently grabbed but the elder boy. He didn't react. "My liver?"

He blinked, then closed his own book and thought for a moment. "That's alright I think... My insurance covers transplants."

This subject used to scare him to death, but now... It didn't seem a big deal. Might as well be talking about the weather even. "Besides... Can't stop. Don't have a choice. I'll make people mad." His tone the entire time was flat and lacking of emotion. Like he was reading a word problem out loud. What else was there to say? He couldn't stop taking the pills. That was like asking him to stop eating or to stop washing his hands

"Yer insur- "For a moment, Luce just stared."Who gives a fuck what people think?" Eyes, already narrow, became like slits; his voice rose and caught a couple stares, and his grip on Conrad's wrist tightened. "Don' have a _choice?_ Fuck tha-"

"How's your nose?"

"Mah no-"

Luce blinked in surprise; the kid would never let go of a topic that easily, he was way too uptight for that. He stared for a moment before letting go of his wrist and rubbing the bridge of his nose darkly, looking away. "S'fine." He was starting to seriously worry that if Connie was acting like _this,_ something was really up now. "S'perman'ntly crooked, bet s'fine." Luce was slightly angry now; how the hell could Conrad do this to himself? How did he allow it?

"'Ow's mum?" The question was drenched in sarcasm; at this point he hated the woman.

"Fine. She's angry that I picked a fight at school, but that's all." Conrad rubbed at his wrist for a moment. "She says this is what happens when I talk to people..."

He paused, wondering why he was still talking to Luce if he wasn't supposed to. It was difficult to think. He lost track of what he was thinking and stared off at some distant thing, then snapped back for a moment."...You're the first person that's talked to me more than once." He paused again. "You should stop though."

Luce blinked in irritation. "Well if ya don't talk ta someone yer gonna end up in real shit." Then the words clicked, and his head snapped back to look at his companion. It would be rather a bit sad that he was the only one.

"Why should I stop? Got nothin' better ta do. Plus, ya respond." God, he looked so _tired._ Luce was actually tense about the whole thing; the kid was beating himself half to death! Luce needed to keep an eye on him before he did something stupid.

The senior leaned back on his chair "Ya finally got s'me comp'ny. Ya really wanna lose it?"

"I thought you hated me? I broke your nose." Conrad took the scattered blank pages of paper and piled them back into the folder- Bell rings in fifteen minutes. He's given up on drawing _anything._

Luce smirked gently, almost fondly. "Don' hate ya. Ya fought back. I was proud." He looked up as the other boy piled his papers away. "Was a nice change, ya doin' s'mth'ng 'bout things tha' madeja angry. Better than ya bein' a priss." He kept smirking, the trademark expression looking far more familiar. "Mas'chis', 'member?"

Conrad didn't seem to hear him, and continued speaking. "And it doesn't matter what I want. I don't know what I want."

Frowning, Luce stared at Conrad, tempted to just _force_ him to look at him. "Doesn't matter?" He shook his head lightly "'Course it matters. Just gotta make up yer mind..." he trailed off; was Connie even listening?

The boy wasn't reacting a bit to what he was saying. If he did hear, it wasn't sinking in and sparking anything. He shoved his things back into his bag. As he zipped up the bag to get up, something must have clicked-

"...proud?"

Proud, he said he was proud of him.

That… The idea of _someone_ being _proud_- it was a joke. He was making fun of him.

But…

"... You're confusing me. Please, just leave me alone." Swinging bag over his shoulder, he left the table.

Luce Worth stared after him, something akin to a perplexed and worried frown on his face. He couldn't leave him alone, not with all this shit going on.

This couldn't end well, even on this kid's standards where everything ended poorly; Luce was going to do something about it. He's not going to leave Conrad to get hurt, not going to leave him to hurt _himself_. He'd following him home tonight, then, and every other night. Just to make sure he gets there safe, for now. Luce rested on the back of his chair, rubbing his eyes, and then, too, got up to gather his one bag for class.


	5. Double Update

**DOUBLE UPDATE**

**Okay, I screwed up hugely.**

**_HUGELY._**

**I uploaded the wrong chapter, specifically, THIS chapter when I meant to upload the last first.**

**So feel free to turn me into a bat as punishment.**

**And now things get very serious.**

**Remember to comment- May and I live off of those.**

**Or don't.**

**Or do.**

**I an't ya mummy.**

**Rocky Road will be uploaded in few days time. Getting finished with exams over here.**

**We own none of the original!**

As the days passed, Conrad's condition only began to worsen, especially in school. He, who had tried so hard to be invisible before, was now attracting the attention of other students.

It began with mixing up his class schedule. He would walk into classes he wasn't meant to be in for another hour, attract stares from unfamiliar students. The climax came when he accidentally walked into the girl's restroom.

He'd apologized when he had realized his mistake, but he never really seemed to care. He never bothered to make that extra effort to defend his actions; he always spoke with that deadpan voice.

He was turning into an easy target.

Not long after the bathroom fiasco, Conrad was continuing on his usual route to the bus stop, but he was stopped by a group of teenagers his age. They began to encircle him, like vultures around a dying animal.

"Hey! Hey stupid- aw geez, look at the _little retard!_"

He stopped and stared, confused. After a moment, the prey tried to step past them; it thought the pack would let it.

But they didn't. Instead, they pushed him back in, closing in, yelling nasty things and shoving at his chest. They were trying frantically to get a rise out of him, but they couldn't; Conrad was still at a loss for what was occurring.

It was so out of routine, so unexpected, that his mind was still trying to process it all and, getting no reaction, the actions of the bullies began to escalate. Conrad soon found himself curled on the pavement, wheezing desperately for breath as the leader of the pack began to kick at his chest, the rest settling for any other contact they could find.

He was hardly aware of their screaming at him, telling him to cry for his mother, to beg, to do anything _human. _But all he could do was pull deeper and deeper into his own subconscious, away from the world around him, the painful reality.

All that was left was his dull-eyed body, free for the others to use as their personal punching bag.

…

At one point, Luce had given up with the library shit. He considered it completely pointless to stand around and do nothing, and apparently the librarian agreed, as she didn't complain when he checked out early by at least an hour.

He began to head to the bus stop, almost empty backpack slung over one shoulder, to continue his now-usual routine of following a certain freshman home, keeping him safe. It was a bit embarrassing for the senior, and he'd never admit it, but the boy was becoming a nagging bit on the edge of his conscience. It never left him alone.

To his utter dismay, he had begun protective of the boy (just a little!), but only really because he knew that the normal Conrad would never have been like this; the Conrad he knew was a scared little kid, but he was smart and artistic and not a damn- whatever he was now.

Worth gave the weakest of sighs as he continued to the bus stop. The sounds of shouting barely grabbed his attention, yet Luce was always a fan of a fistfight, and he looked up momentarily to spot several boys surrounding a single child, blocked from view behind all the kicking legs.

Two of Worth's moral codes were being broken before his very eyes. Of course that didn't settle well with him at _all_. But what only made it worse was the fact that the victim wasn't fighting back. Even from here, Luce could tell that they weren't reacting at all. Some pit settled in the teen's stomach as he heard the screams of the offenders, telling the kid to cry for his mother, and then his feet were moving almost not by his control.

He towered over the freshmen quickly, trying to catch sight of the victim. And damn it all to hell, who else could it be than the one kid he was actually hoping it wasn't.

Conrad.

_Connie._

The senior shoved the shorter boys away, landing a blow on the leader that was aiming for the victim's stomach. He couldn't even speak, couldn't think up some witty line or retort to these punks, because all he felt was_ anger_, pouring through him like a flood.

Even Luce Worth knew his limits about hurting others. He would never touch a person when they were down, wouldn't even think about it. And more than that, it was Conrad, it was always Conrad. Why couldn't he fight back?

The flood continued to pour through the broken dam, and Luce was hardly aware that he kept punching and punching and _punching_ until the boy was screaming and he finally stopped. Blood streamed from the freshman's nose and lip, Luce noted with grim satisfaction, as the younger teen pulled away.

Luce was aware that he was panting for breath, his eyes were dangerous narrow slits, almost feral. The other brats dragged their dear friend away, and suddenly he was screaming after them:

"Yeah, ya better run ya little cocksuckers! Little fuckers!"

More expletives slipped off his tongue, soothing and familiar, before he finally paused, panting wildly, fists tight. And then, as though he'd nearly forgotten why he was so angry, he turned dully to the small curled up body beneath him.

"Ey, Connie."

He placed a rough hand on the boy's tight shoulder, taking in the hazed eyes, the far away expression. "Can'ya hear me?" Quickly looking back towards the bastards, Worth wondered for a moment how much damage they inflicted. But he shoved that thought aside, looking back down toward his companion. "They ain't gonna bother ya again."

He shook the body weakly, because that's what it was: a body. Almost empty and hollow. It scared him.

The mind was so consumed and drawn away from reality that it didn't realize the blows had finally stopped. Neither the hand nor the shaking shook it back; rather, it was the familiar voice that stirred the conscience and drew it back.

"…Luce…?" his voice was hardly more than a whisper, just a breath.

Worth was…. trying to be comforting…. but _why_? What was there to comfort? To Conrad, nothing was wrong. His body was hurting, but was that a big deal?

The beaten boy struggled to sit up, giving a loan moan. But the older boy didn't move his hand. "Ey-slow down!" But he didn't. His hand moved out to reach his glasses and, after moving it around carefully, he finally could make out the blurry shape of the frame and picked them up. He slipped them on, hardly noticing that one of the lenses was completely shattered. When he did realize it, all he could think of was that he'd need to ask for new ones.

He could taste penny copper on his tongue, between his teeth, as the world began to slide back into focus as much as it could. He looked directly at Worth, hardly able to pull together an expression of acknowledgement, of recognition.

The teen was still unaware of what had happened, but he had to get home. That's all he knew. He could not be late. Without another word or sound, Conrad pulled himself up to his feet slowly, staggering slightly.

Conrad was acting as though nothing was happening. He didn't seem scared or sad; he didn't even seem like he was in pain. Luce might have expected this from himself, but never from Conrad. The elder teen nearly stared as his companion rose without even speaking.

"Connie?"

He rose with him, his hand falling back down to his side, then quickly rose again as the boy staggered. "Ey, easy." He tried to steady him, a multitude of questions running through his mind.

Did Conrad even recognize him? Did he even know what had happened? That empty glazed look he was receiving, it was so… out of _character_. Was he even aware of all the bodily injuries he should have just gained? Should the boy even be standing?

Despite the cloudy havoc rolling through his mind, Luce Worth was aware of at least one thing: he had to get Conrad somewhere safe.

"C'mon, kiddie." Taking the boy by the arm carefully, he tried leading him back towards the school.

Luce had no idea that Conrad, _his_ Conrad, was almost completely gone. He couldn't know that he wasn't going to stop being this empty, emotionless _thing._ He just wanted to keep him safe, and he wasn't sure why, but everything just felt so wrong and he wanted his Conrad back.

He wanted the boy that was terrified of him, that drew horses, that showed too much emotion just because he could. He wanted the kid that punched him but was afraid of it, the little yuppie, the pansy that he embarrassed only in private because when he was in a bad mood, it was playing with this kid that made him happy. And he was the only one that had the right to mess with Conrad because he knew what the kid was going through and he knew where his boundaries were.

This was his property, his right. Conrad was breaking and Luce could never like it.

Conrad pulled away from his companion, redirecting himself to the bus stop. "I have to get home." He said it in that monotone voice again; it was nothing more than a fact. There was no room for debate. Home was the only option at this point.

This was the routine. You follow it no matter what.

Conrad began to limp away, forcing his body forward. Mother would be angry that he was late. Why was this boy talking to him again? After he told him not to?

It was curious, but it wasn't important.

Waiting for the bus was.

It didn't sink in at first that the freshman was pulling away, because it didn't make sense, it wasn't right to have him pulling away.

"Have ta-" Worth was silenced as his eyes followed the limping boy. For what felt like the longest time, he didn't know what to say, to do.

"Connie…"

For a moment, he was tempted to walk beside Conrad, but, for once, he was completely unsure of what to do. He didn't know. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, confusion. He was just at a loss.

Worth was left to stand and watch Conrad leave.


	6. Logic

**Can't tell you all how happy it makes us to see how much attention this story is getting.**

**Honestly, we love you all.**

**Now here's the latest chapter! Enjoy!**

Conrad made it back home. He dropped his bag by the coat rack and limped his way over to the kitchen. He could hear his mom getting ready for work- she was working nights now for some reason- in the other room.

"I'm home," he said out loud for his mother to hear before taking out the pill box. It was filled with brown bottles. As soon as he came home from school, he was supposed to take the green and red pill. He had an idea what they were supposed to be for, but honestly couldn't remember for sure. Even so, he took them with a glass of water, and entered the living room. Still sipping quietly, he heard his mother opening her bedroom door. She muttered a quick hello to him, not even looking at him. She seemed in a hurry, and so pretty in her business suit and makeup...

"Conrad, dinners in the fridge, ju- _Conrad Dillon Achenleck, __**COME HERE.**_"

Blinking in a confused matter, he stood up and faced his mother, who was glaring down at his appearance. There was blood running down his nose, a bruise on his cheek, and all over his bare arms; and his glasses were still shattered. Before he realized it, his mother had slapped him across the face, adding a fresh mark to his collection. She was furious.

"You're still fighting! After you promised, after we got you to see the doctor! You're so sick in the head, not even modern medicine can cure you, can it?"

Conrad shook his head- no, no, he wasn't fighting. He was cornered by these kids that-

The gesture was misunderstood.

"You _admit_ it!" Her voice was getting louder and higher. "Is this how it's going to be? Is it? You not only have to look like _him_you have to _**act**_ like him too! You worthless little piece of-!"

She was yelling at him. She was furious. He started feeling something in the pit of his stomach but it didn't matter because he couldn't act that emotion out. All he could do was listen and have his smallest of gestures and movements spark more and more rage.

"You're a monster! You hurt people and I know, _I know_ you're going to be a monster just like _him_." She was becoming hysterical. Conrad couldn't remember how to calm her so things only escalated. "I didn't have to have you, you know? I could have been happy! _Without you!_ You're burden! **A burden!"** She stopped screaming and picked up her purse. Conrad stood frozen. She muttered something about talking about _this _some more in the morning, but something was already being settled.

The gears in his mind were turning, taking what she said and deciding the only way for her to be happy was to not burden her anymore. He didn't feel very much anyways, so what did it matter?

Conrad was already dead.

There was no debating that- it was flawless logic. Such flawless logic. He started thinking of the how's, never gave the why a second over. He walked into the kitchen and took up a bottle of sleeping pills and pauses.

Something, _something_ was making him pause but his mind won't give it a chance to figure out _what_.

He carried the bottle into the living room and settled into the couch. Conrad stared blankly at the label. There didn't seem any reason to put it off. It was a clear choice, totally reasonable. He poured out the contents into the palm of his hand, and one by one, drank them down with the glass of water he had left on the coffee table earlier.

This only took a few seconds. When he was finished he didn't feel any immediate effects. He looked over at the TV, and decided to focus on the sitcom that was currently playing to pass the time.

It was an old show, about a Latino family. They were fighting. Interested, he kept watching. A minute passed and he started to feel drowsy. He fought it slightly, but soon was too weak to sit upright. The boy fell onto his side, feet dangling off the couch awkwardly and the empty pill bottle rolling onto the carpet. Conrad was still conscious, his eyes still glued to the TV. He found himself wishing to stay awake long enough to see the family make amends and be happy again. For some reason the thought was enough to make tears spill out, even as the eyelids started to close.


	7. Wake Up

**Updates will be a bit slower after this guys. Sometimes it'd be weekly like normal, and other times it will be bi-weekly.**

**I hope you all enjoy today's chapter. This was all one single post by May Sparrow, and it's freaking **_**awesome.**_

Luce felt lost.

Not physically, of course. The boy knew the streets like the back of his hand, knew every crack and crevice. He's always known where he was, where he was going.

Except that last part wasn't exactly true at the moment. Because in the moments where a certain teenager parted from his side, to the time the bus had pulled up and that teenager had vanished in its depths, he'd been at a loss of just what to do next. He'd always followed the boy before, always—but this was so very different. Conrad had never been beaten, never been physically harmed. But more than that, he'd never shrugged off a person so easily. He'd never—

Stop. Luce needed to stop. This wasn't his problem, it never had been, and he didn't need to think about it. _He didn't need to think about it._

But, fuck, what if he could have stopped it—no, he didn't need to think that, he had no involvement with it whatsoever.

He was just going to do his normal thing. Yeah. He'd follow Conrad home, like always.

Yet Conrad's bus had already disappeared and he was forced to wait for the next one. It took a while, and as he finally boarded the public transport, the teen felt a slight surge of impatience. The thought was shoved aside as he took a window seat, eyes trailing upward to the darkening sky.

…

Upon reaching the stop sign where Conrad usually ended his route, Luce went a little farther—he usually didn't, but there was that rare occasion where Conrad had been rather dull and the older boy would make sure he actually got into the house, didn't get himself hurt even from the few blocks to his home from the bus stop.

Thinking that through, Luce Worth realized how truly protective he was of the underclassman. He wanted to keep him safe and healthy; he wanted him to be okay. He was worried over some stupid kid.

What the hell did that mean?

Lost in the strangest of thoughts, Luce got off the bus, continuing down the blocks and trailing towards Conrad's home, eyes wandering and noting the car missing from the front.

He closed the last stretch warily, feeling very slightly like a stalker (and he kind of was one now, wasn't he?). There were lights flashing in the window to the living room—TV?

Maybe he wasn't needed here if Conrad could focus on TV. But hey, he could always enjoy the program. Looking in at an angle, Worth noted the Latino family arguing and an off-stage audience laughing. Wait, was that George Lopez? What a weird-ass TV show.

Bored, Worth continued to look around, eyes trailing slowly and locking onto the couch slowly. It took him a moment to note the half-lying position. He would expect it to be uncomfortable, yet the boy looked deeply asleep. Perceiving the image as good, Luce's eyes continued around, brushing the floor with the discarded open pill bottle, moving away.

Moving back. Widening as the owner of the eyes was hit with realization, because at this angle, it was painfully clear that the bottle was empty, he could see the mouth of it.

That instinct that had shown itself at the school decided to show its face again, and suddenly, without even feeling it, the teen's sharp elbow was in the window, glass breaking and falling around it. Pushing his hand through, Worth barely felt the cuts he would usually enjoy so much as he made the hole bigger and nearly leapt through the window.

Again, it was as though his feet moved without his control; he was unaware of _how_ he had arrived at the foot of the couch, but he didn't care, he was only there for the _why_, and he was shaking the unresponsive _why_ desperately.

"C-Connie? Conrad!" He received no response, and upon searching for a pulse, he only barely found one. _"Fuck!"_

Worth never panicked, never. But if there was ever a time when he was in total mind-blowing panic, no, _fear_, it was now, as he scrambled for the empty bottle and stared at the label.

Because it was so clear what had happened. Conrad had overdosed. _Conrad_ had _overdosed_.

"Fuck fuck fuck no shit shit—"

Something snapped, clicked, whatever the term was. All Worth knew at the moment was that he needed something, and what he needed was a_rescue kit_. Conrad's mum, being the irritating worrywart she was, had to have one; even his family had one for overdosing.

He was on his feet, in other rooms of the house, searching.

Searching.

"Fuck fuck where is it _where is it_—"

In his blind panic (yes, _panic_), he almost missed it, in the laundry cabinet. His fingers wrapped tightly around the edge as he yanked it out and fled back towards the couch, the cursed couch. He threw it to the side almost furiously, falling to his knees and pulling Conrad (no, it can't be Conrad,_it can't be, it's just a body_) onto them.

Comfort was not a strong point in Luce's life; he could hardly do it with his sister, all he could ever promise was murder the bastard that had made her cry. Awkwardly cradling the body (_god could it really be Conrad_), Luce nervously buried his face in the rumbled black hair for a moment, inhaling the shampoo and dirt from earlier. With a sharp swallow, he let go, laying the boy straight on the floor and returning his attention to the kit, reading the directions oh so quickly.

**Rub hard on the breastplate or upper lip—**

Worth began to do so carefully. He didn't get a reaction, and continued to read.

—**if this does not trigger consciousness, call 911 immediately and start blowing air into the victim's lungs**

Luce searched for a phone desperately, he needed to find the phone _where was it_- there! On the table stand. His fingers stumbled on it and he wrenched it from the charger, typing in the numbers and messing up the first time.

But he did it right his second try.

_911, what is your emergency? _

He swallowed. "S'my friend— he— he overdosed on sleepin' meds— he's not wakin—"

_Did you try rubbing his breastplate and upper lip? _

Luce tried desperately to shove away the nagging voice in the back of his head that said _Are all people like this? Damn idiots _and responded sharply. "F-Fuck, yeah, I got the kit here and—"

Again the speaker interrupted him. _Okay, at this point start blowing air into his lungs. Can you do that? _

Worth cringed. Despite everything, he didn't want to perform mouth-to-mouth. But he didn't have a choice, he didn't want to regret anything. He had to. "I— I— Okay. Okay."

_Alright, do this for about two minutes, then find the Narcan. It'll be a nasal spray in the kit. Got it? _

His hand stumbled over it, grabbed it, popped part of the top off. "Y— Yeah."

_Okay, stay on the line with me, paramedics are coming, what's the address? _

He tried desperately to remember, god, why couldn't he remember?

Something was there, it decided to show itself. He could see the number in his mind's eye; but it was the _wrong house_. It was the neighboring house, oh of all the useless shit that decided to stick into his mind!

But was something, it was enough, and he barely managed to stutter it out and specify it was the _neighboring house, got it?_ (_Luce, you don't get like this, what's wrong with you?_)

He was cursing madly, swallowing and muttering a name over and over and over (Conrad's name, over and over and _over_).

"D-Damn idiot— C-Connie—" the phone slipped from his hand as they trembled and hesitated over the other boy's face before finally carefully opening his mouth. He could barely think straight as he began to perform mouth to mouth; one hand held the victim's nose closed, the other slipped under his back in a protective motion.

Luce came back up for air with a vengeance. "C'mon,_ c'mon_, Connie, breathe, you_ idiot_!" At this point in time, his fingers reached out for the Narcan and he applied it with shaky hands. The bottle almost slipped from his fingers, but he _did it_, and _god,_ _Conrad, stay with me, come on please stay_—

"S-Stay with me, kid... C-Connie... wake up... come on..." Luce wasn't aware when his thoughts became legible words, he didn't care, he couldn't hear the person on the phone trying to talk to him. All he could focus on was the boy that he'd begun to cradle again as he rocked back and forth.

"Wake up- wake _up!_"

Luce was never one to show fear. But in that instant, he was absolutely terrified.

He didn't want this kid to die.

_He wouldn't let him._


	8. Eighteen

**Greetings!**

**Okay, here's your new chapter. Enjoy~**

**Also, also, I'm stuck on Rocky Road- I realized I've never came up with a name for the ice cream shop. Anyone has any suggestions?**

It only took a few agonizing minutes, but soon enough the ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed in through the door. In a chaotic blur, they took Conrad away from the older teen and frantically set to work on stabilizing him.

A gruff man in the mist of the chaos took note of Worth's arm and yelled at another paramedic to stay with him until the second ambulance would come, which was already thirty seconds away thanks to a call on the radio. Conrad was carted away, with another man still pumping air into the boy's lungs. Just as the first ambulance left, and the man left behind finally started asking questions to the blonde starting with _who was he_ and _what exactly happened_, the door was thrown open with a clearly distressed woman.

"What is happening here! What happened to my so- _Who are __**YOU?"**_ A police officer pulled her to the side and muttered to her a very quick summary, causing a hysterical reaction. "_No, no, no, my son would _**never!** _WHERE IS HE WHERE? WHERE_?"

The man that was with Worth bit his lip as he finished wrapping up the wound. "You'll need stitches kid, let's take you to the hospital for now. We'll call your folks there- alright?"

Luce had very stubbornly refused to answer certain questions directed his way; he'd been bitter ever since they'd pulled Conrad away from him and he had to watch them cart the kid away, still trying to get him to breathe. He hurt all over, he realized, like he was worn down to the bone, and as he finally opened his mouth to direct a rude comment to the interrogator, the door was near busted open by a lady, pulled aside quickly. Luce was suddenly distracted, not even hearing the man bandaging his arm, and he pulled away suddenly in anger, rising up from his seated position and nearly storming up to the woman's face. She backsteoped, still reeling in shock.

"You _bitch. You __**bitch.**_ This is all yer fault, yanno!" Absolute fury poured off the teen in waves as he shoved a finger into her face to prove his point. "He fuckin' _overdosed_, and- Fuck, guess who supplied the fuckin' meds!" His fists were tight, his eyes were narrow; this boy was a threat to society but at the moment he was a worried friend that was ready to beat the shit out of the source of a problem.

Conrad was in the hospital for some reason, because he overdosed, and this damn lady that dared call herself the boy's mother had forced him to take _eighteen_ different sorts of medications for problems he didn't have and- Luce felt something almost break in him, and his knees went weak.

Conrad could die and it would be her fault.

Luce swallowed. "_**You fucking tard.**_ _You're so damn __**stupid.**_ I don' care how well Connie spoke'a ya, you don' deserve- Ya don- Fuck!" His knuckles were going pale form the grip, and all he really wanted to do was hit this woman- but Conrad wouldn't want that, this was mum, fucked up as she is. God, it washard to control himself. He was _so _furious.

The man protested weakly to the boy to stay still but to no avail. The officer, sensing the boy may get violent, moved himself between the two. "That's enough kid, no reason to anyone else to get hurt tonight," he said quietly, trying to defuse the situation.

But Mrs. Achenleck was looking straight into the eyes of a street hooligan, a teenager that she was sure she'd never seen before. A dangerous looking boy in _her house… _The Officer found himself restraining the _woman_ instead of the teenager, holding her back as she flailed hysterically at the boy. "You did this didn't you? _You_ did this! Who are you?" She glared at the officer. "Why aren't you arresting him? Arrest him now!"

But the accusation stopped short as the young paramedic interrupted. "This kid probably saved your son's life maa'm," he stated. "He was the one that called 911!"

She looked like she wants argue this, but by then the second ambulance had arrived. Another paramedic entered the door, trying to get the kid to come with him. The first paramedic began questioning the mother about the medications because they'd need a full history in case he had been allergic to anything.

Worth fought the paramedics half heartedly, eyes still narrowed at the woman. But as they pulled him away from the house he suddenly screamed at her in utter fury. "_Eighteen!_ That's how many diff'rent meds he had ta take, no wonder he tried ta leave ya!" He fought the men harder now, trying to return to the woman to prove his point; but they tugged at him a bit more, and he finally relented.

"_E-Eighteen_- Fuck." As he climbed into the van, set on seeing Conrad at the hospital, he swallowed once more and shut his eyes, closing off the world around him.


End file.
